


The Not So Nice but Accurate Prophecies of Anakin Skywalker, Wizard Turned Warlock

by Olpgurl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-19 19:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19362910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olpgurl/pseuds/Olpgurl
Summary: Her great-great-how-ever-many-greats-grandfather wrote the ultimate book of prophecy, it was never wrong. It was the reason she was the only witch alive and she hated it more than anything.He had never fit in with his family, his father and grandfather shunning him from their little secret club. When his father died and he found out the truth, he’s a little worried. More like a lot, his family had a bad habit of murdering people for using magic.He should just get away from the craziness but a knock on the door changed everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I 100% blame good omens for this. If you haven’t seen it, this story is pretty spoiler free so you should be safe. No angels, demons or apocalypse at all.

Once upon a time, magic was revered but Anakin Skywalker ruined that. No one expected magic could be used for evil, witches were the ones who protected and healed after all. But go bad he did, turning against all the witches and wizards and the world in turn. So began the Hunters, an army sworn to destroy witchcraft and anyone who possessed the ability to wield the supernatural. All were hunted down and burned, feared because of their power and the possibility of what they could do. The Hunters were successful, the witches were all but destroyed. Powerful bloodlines disappeared in a war to end the evil the Hunter’s feared. It worked, generations of certain families dedicated themselves to the cause, none of the families talented in the art of magic remained. Or so they thought. No one knew Anakin had a wife, or about her pregnancy. Her family was surprised, not even they knew about her marriage. Once news of his betrayal reached her, Padmé Amidala had tried to reason with her husband. It had failed forcing her to flee for her life. Her parents were shocked by their daughter’s condition and her sudden death after the birth of her twins. Having two small children was shocking enough but the note they found at the cottage they thought was their daughter’s alone was even more surprising. They didn’t want to give them up, they were the last reminder of the daughter they had lost but the note was specific. Her children were separated and never mentioned again between them. They never considered who or what the father was. Nor did they consider the sealed envelopes the new guardians were to receive. But the children found out. Eventually. 

397 Years Later ...

The streets were hard but it was safer for everyone this way. She had long ago dropped the name that would have given her away. No one cared that she was only called Rey, abandoned as a child to scavenge. But she had remembered her father’s last words, the promise she had been asked to make. She had been young but old enough to understand why he was afraid. Her mother had vanished and they had fled their comfortable home, hoping it just an accident but she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. The Hunters existed, the bloodlines of those with supernatural abilities might be almost gone but the Hunter’s bloodlines had continued. No one believed anymore, the world had moved on but her family had the book, it had been written. 

The book had never failed the her ancestors, written out of order, short but terrifyingly accurate prophecies. It had saved them over and over, never happy endings but survival of their kind. It was always right, the damned book never missed a thing but sometimes the comprehension came too late. It had taken a few generations but she knew her duty now, the early generations had learned that lesson the hard way. They were all taught young about Vader and Kylo’s falls, Luke’s temptation, it was all written. She was not the first girl called Rey, that was a good name for the women in her line. 

So she lived like she had nothing, no cell phone, no address, no ID. She had millions, safely stashed away with longtime family friends, available with a simple phone call from a pay phone. All she kept on her was a custom made retractable staff and a backpack with clothes, a few personal items and a copy of the book, filled with notes on the possible interpretations. But she could feel something, a sense that everything was about to change again. She checked her copy of the book often, trying to glean something new, something that had been missed. 

 

*****

 

He never really liked his family. He was sure most people thought their parents were weird while they were teenagers but his family seemed really odd. Sitcom jokes about family reunions and holidays going comically wrong never happened in his world. His mother had died before he could walk and he didn’t know anything about that side of the family. And his dad’s family consisted of his grandparents who were long gone now. But when he’d been a kid, his father and grandfather met up often, disappearing into the office at whichever house they were at to talk for hours, his grandmother baking cookies and turning on a movie for him. His dad always seemed so disappointed with him, he’d always felt like he’d been lacking something. Once he’d turned 13, his grandfather always wanted him to join in but his father refused, saying he was too soft for the family business. They didn’t have one as far as he knew. He suspected for a long time they were mafia or something like that but he would have expected them to be rich if that was true. So he joined the Air Force as soon as he turned 18, he’d show them how soft he was. 

It didn’t make a difference, his father was as disappointed as ever. Every leave, every trip home he was left out. Even the death of his grandfather hadn’t made a difference. So he gave up, what was the point of trying to prove something to someone in a game he didn’t understand. So he stopped worrying about his father and worried about his career. Then it all came to an end. One phone call, that was all it took for his life to change completely. An honourable discharge after his father’s heart attack and he was no longer Commander Dameron. He arrived home to care for a man he hadn’t seen in years just to find out he’d died while he was on the plane. 

He hadn’t been to his childhood home in a decade, stepping into it was like stepping into a portal. Memories flooding back as he walked through the rooms. He didn’t want anything to do with the place anymore, he couldn’t ever remember being happy here but someone needed to sort through the place. It was just him, he didn’t need this much space, he would sell or donate everything and move on. He saved the office for last, the room he’d always been excluded from was now technically his. It seemed so ordinary, not the mythical fortress he’d come to believe, shelves filled with old books, the sturdy desk and comfortable chairs. The only strange items were the large map on the wall and huge safe in the corner. He went through every scrap of paper, shook every book but he couldn’t find the combination. He didn’t have a clue who he should call to get the damn thing open. The will had been left with a lawyer and any important paperwork had been in the drawers of the desk, so what was so important that his father had locked it up? A quick google search and a few calls later he found someone able to get it open. He thanked the man absently as he stared at the shelves filled with journals, some of the sheets browned with age, leather covers cracked. What the hell had his father been doing?

 

*****

 

 **Prophecy 3418: The time of rebirth is at hand. Two families intertwined at last, bringing about the end of the hunt. The strife will end, the damned one will see the rey of light and embrace the sun.**

It was the one of the few prophecies no one could agree on. Her notebook was filled with generations worth of ideas, guesses and suggestions from her ancestors. They all agreed on one thing, rebirth and the end of strife had to mean they would stop being hunted. But no one could agree about the two families. Everyone had assumed the Skywalkers were one but no one agreed on who the second family was. Her trip to see Finn was making her reconsider everything. The Calrissians and the Ticos had been friends of the family since the start, hiding earlier generations as they had faced their own form of persecution. Both families had grown exponentially in the last 400 years but there were always some willing to continue helping, keeping up the Skywalker’s fortune, a place to hide and most importantly, keeping the book safe from harm. They had been there since the beginning but in four centuries, there had never been a marriage between the two families. Finn’s news about his engagement to Rose hadn’t been a surprise but it had made her think. What if wasn’t talking about her family at all?

Rose greeted her at the door, nose crinkling at the sight of her. “Shower first, then hug,” she teased. 

“Bus is the safest way to travel and I was on the other side of the country,” she grumbled. 

“I love you, but you stink,” Rose laughed as she shut the door. “Plus Finn will be back by the time you get out. Jannah texted from the train, she’s here with the book like you asked.”

They hadn’t been all together as a group since they were children, all they needed now was Paige and everything would be perfect. She had her own duties though, a phone call would have to do. “Fine, then I won’t congratulate you,” she replied, sticking out her tongue. 

Rose gave her the finger, smiling fondly. She missed being with her only friends but it was safer to stay away from them. The small bubble of hope was there, maybe it was time for this all to end. The Hunters had stopped for the most part, most giving up the fight centuries ago but one family in particular was still active. Like her own family they were small, only seeming to have one child each generation, a boy instead of a girl like her own family but they still believed in their cause. Paige had gone above and beyond, learning to fly to keep watch on the presumed Dameron heir. No one could understand why the hell he had joined up instead of helping out his grandfather and father but Paige didn’t want to risk getting too close to the man. The last thing they needed was to draw attention to her friends and their families, they had been left alone all this time for a reason. 

She stayed under the spray until the water went cold, hotel showers never had the greatest water pressure and she usually didn’t stay in the best of places to start with. It gave her more time to think, without the distraction of strangers talking as an annoying background hum. Where they chose to settle was a risk, but being near the Dameron family home was worth it for this small celebration/fact finding mission. They planned to marry at Finn’s childhood home, Jannah the current only resident and keeper of the most important book in the world. 

It wasn’t really a book but hundreds of sheets of paper bound together in two parts that the family had jokingly named ‘The Not So Nice but Accurate Prophecies of Anakin Skywalker, Wizard Turned Warlock’. The story of how the book came to be was passed down by each generation, told over and over until it was memorized by each witch in the family. Anakin Skywalker had been a particularly powerful wizard, born to an unknown family. He wasn’t taught the discipline necessary at a young age and his anger grew when he wasn’t given the due he felt was owed to him. This coupled with his ability to see the future, a future where he saw the death of his beloved wife made him go mad. He repeatedly looked again and again to the future, trying to find a way to save the woman he loved. He wrote much of what he saw, going far into the future but never seeing a way to save Padmé. His madness progressed, not seeing until too late he would be the cause of her untimely death. His final act before succumbing to complete insanity was to take his scribbling and separate it, leaving instructions at the home he shared with his wife. Instructions to separate his children and hide them, he had seen what he would become, what they would later call a warlock, that he would try to tempt his own son to take that mantle too. As adults, his children found each other, putting the pages together as one book, learning to trust in the words of their father the hard way. 

Now here she was centuries later, thinking about the words of a madman and what it could possibly mean. No one really believed in witches, not really. History said they were all burned, mass hysteria, ignorance or the patriarchy blamed. Witches and wizards were the stuff of horror movies or children’s books or new age nonsense. Few knew the real truth, witches were real and she was the last one. That once the burnings were over, real witches were hunted down, killed discretely by a secret order that history didn’t know existed and was still very much alive. Albeit, small. 

*****

 

He started with what looked the newest, the notebooks covered in cheap fabric, like the ones he used in high school. The more delicate, browned sheets scared him a little, like the intricate writing would be lost forever if he touched the sheets. It took him a while before he understood it was a diary, the shorthand notes usually just dates with a single sentence like ‘Atlanta was a no go, subject fled last week’. He scanned through the pages, looking for something more detailed, finally finding more than a line or two from about a decade earlier.

_Found elder Skywalker, going by Mara Smythe. Target eliminated. Daughter was not present, will try at home this evening when sleeping._

_They’re fucking gone. Went to the house and it’s completely empty. The father and the kid left everything, the house is full of useless crap. No witch, no hints of where they went, nothing. Going to have to bride someone, see if they have any clue. Where are they getting their cash? This is the second time they’ve done this, abandoned a whole fucking house, they can’t be carrying that much money with them._

He had to resist the urge to vomit. The handwriting was his dad’s, and if even half of what was written on there was true, he hadn’t known the man at all. He wasn’t sure what was more horrifying, his father was either a murderer or certifiable. He had wanted to kill a kid? Because they were a witch? He was torn between wanting to call the cops and reading more to find out if it was just some prank. Maybe his dad was trying to write a novel or something before he died. But the secret meetings he’d been excluded from, being told how he was soft, the age of some of these journals made him think otherwise. He grabbed another journal and started reading. 

 

*****

 

“So what’s the plan?” Finn asked once they had a moment to catch up as a group. “We’re down to one Dameron and we have no idea how involved he is in hunting. Paige said he’s out of the military, she can’t watch him anymore. Do we even know where this Poe guy is?”

“We need to find out why he got out,” Rose added. “The timing is ... well, shit. Did he leave because his dad died and he’s being a good son or did he leave because his dad died and he needed to take over the killing. Maybe we need to do some recon.”

“No!” she replied firmly. “You two have a wedding to plan, I’m not letting you get near the guy. Your families have been kept safe for four centuries, I’m not going to get you killed now.”

“So I go,” Jannah supplied. “I don’t live here. I can check the family home and leave in the morning. I’m two states away, he won’t run into me anytime soon.”

It just started an argument but Jannah was stubborn. She was the least involved in keeping her safe and she did have a point about not being around. They went over ideas on how to keep all of them safe, Jannah checking into a hotel so if she was followed, she wouldn’t lead the last hunter right to the last witch. The wait was excruciating, she felt it would be easier to go once it was dark. They tried to keep busy, Rose showing her increasing uglier dresses, teasing her about what kind of monstrosity she would be forced to wear to the wedding. They all jumped when Finn’s phone rang. 

“He’s definitely there,” Jannah said without preamble once her brother put his phone on speaker. “Lights were on, car in the driveway, he didn’t even bother to close the curtains. Looked preoccupied, he was pacing around. I think he was reading something, his head was down, like he was concentrating.”

“His father’s notes probably,” she huffed. 

“His father just died, it could have been legal stuff,” Rose said with a gentle pat to her shoulder. “We can’t assume anything, he might just be dealing with selling the house or paying off debts. Me and Paige had tons to take care of when mom and dad died. If we do something stupid, he might end up getting involved with hunting because we attracted attention to ourselves.”

“We need more information,” Finn sighed. 

“So ... how do we get it?” she asked. 

 

*****

 

He didn’t even realize it was morning until the alarm went off on his phone. He’d been up all night, skimming through multiple journals just to find more of the same. His family was batshit crazy, they thought witches were real. He’d given up on his fear of ruining the older ones, finding even more tales of slaughter. He knew people had been burned at the stake but it was history, not something real to him. But all he’d found was books upon books of different Damerons going from burning people alive to straight up becoming hitmen. Because they thought they were ridding the world of evil. Batshit crazy. 

He didn’t want it to be real, the older journals were easier to discard but google existed and a simple search brought up the truth. An unsolved murder of one Mara Smythe, found shot in an alley. The police had suspected a mugging gone wrong until the woman’s husband and daughter were found missing. Then it was assumed he’d killed his wife and taken their daughter. He kept digging, it was still a cold case, neither had ever been found. He’d had a complicated relationship with his father but this was too much to process. He was calling the realtor as soon as they opened, he wanted nothing to do with this house. He also needed to call the cops. The article had a picture of the family, smiling and happy, his father had ruined that. The little girl would be 21 now. Assuming she was still alive. 

 

*****

 

She hadn’t been able to sleep, they hadn’t been able to think of anything workable, plan wise. When the best idea they could come up with was bumping into him at a grocery store and seeing if he reacted, it pretty much meant they were screwed. She caressed the blank page that was the cover of her great-great-great-some-more-greats-grandfather’s book, she hadn’t seen it in years. She had been told to trust it, it had kept her family safe of centuries. Where was the wisdom she needed now? She had no idea what was right, she was beyond tired of her life. Her family’s powers had been dwindling for generations, there were no other witches or wizards to bring into the family to keep the level of magic up. She was the last witch in the world and she could barely summon an object most days. 

She closed her eyes, placing her hand on the book as if it could whisper the solution. Her eyes snapped open, maybe it could. Flipping to a random page, she closed her eyes, stabbing her finger randomly. She opened them, reading the words. **Prophecy 873: You must introduce yourself, some knowledge is only found by being direct.** She supposed she had her answer.

*****

 

His battery was close to dead, so of course he couldn’t find a damn cord. He’d be on the phone with the cops for a while probably, unless they just asked him to come to the station. Maybe he should shower first? Or make coffee, he hadn’t slept at all. He was starting to think he was just as nuts as the rest of his family, he couldn’t think straight at all. He took a step towards the kitchen when the doorbell rang. It wasn’t even 7:00 am, who the hell does that? He wanted to ignore it but then the pounding started. Whoever it was thought it was important, he shrugged and went to the door. She almost fell into the house, she must have been mid knock. 

He took a moment to check her out, she was exactly his type. She was hot, the look of determination written on her face. She steadied herself, shoulders squaring up like she was preparing for battle. Yep, so his type. Too bad he must look like crap, he was getting too old for all nighters. Not that he’d admit that out loud. 

“Poe Dameron?” she asked. From the sound of it, she already knew the answer. 

He leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow in question. “Depends on who’s asking.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing her small frame past him. “Sure, come on in,” he mumbled. 


	2. Chapter 2

. 

 

She wasn’t sure what she had expected but it certainly wasn’t what she found. There were no iron maidens, those stretch racks things, she didn’t even see a pair of thumb screws laying around. It was all so ... normal. A bright airy room, a couch and a well worn arm chair, a tv, pretty much the kind of thing she would have had if she lived in a house still. It could have been a smokescreen, the torture devices hidden in the basement but she doubted the book would have told her to just go talk to him if he was going to kill her.

“So do you make a habit of showing up at strangers homes at ass crack o’clock?” he said to break the silence. 

She turned to finally get a look at him, only having seen blurry photos from Paige. Why did he have to be hot? Finn wasn’t going to like this, she wasn’t sure she liked this but she knew what was supposed to happen. He was squinting at her, she really needed to say something. “No.” 

She wanted to slap herself, that was lame. “Helpful,” he snarked. “Why are you in my house? I’ve had a shitty few weeks and ... oh crap, did you know my dad or something?”

She snorted. “Not directly,” she mumbled. “So, is this an act or do you honestly not know who I am?”

“Should I know who you are?”

“Yep.”

He stared at her intently, she tried not to squirm. She already regretted this. “You do look kinda familiar but I’m a little sleep deprived at the moment. Telling me your name would help.”

She took a deep breath, she hadn’t spoken her full name since, well it had been a long time. “My name’s Rey. Rey Smythe.”

He looked like someone had kicked him in the bollocks. “I swear I was going to call the cops,” he said in a rush. “I had no idea my dad was crazy, I was looking for my charger so I could bring the notebook I found to them. He admitted he killed her in it.”

The pain was less than she expected, she had always suspected one of the Damerons had been responsible. “Leave the police out of it,” she replied in a monotone. “The less people who know what I am, the better. What I need to know is if you intend to kill me.”

“Why would I kill you?” he nearly shouted. “My dad must have had a psychotic break or something. He thought she was a witch! I’m perfectly sane, witches aren’t real, I’m not killing anyone. Well anyone else, but that was only because I was in the service. I’m not a murder!”

Every witch or wizard had a gift, something they were particularly good at. Anakin could see the future, her mother was a healer and she had always had a heightened sense, she could tell things about people. He hadn’t known, he wouldn’t hurt her, not on purpose anyways. 

 

*****

 

“I believe you,” she said simply. 

“Okay, so we take the journal I found to the cops and we clear the case for them,” he said firmly. “I don’t want the house, I didn’t even like my dad, I can sell everything and give you the money. It’s about the only way I can even think to make it up to your family.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t want your money, I’ve got millions,” she replied scornfully. “The upside of having the world’s best psychic in the family, we knew what to invest in years before the founders of the companies were even born. What I do need you to do is keep your mouth shut. If you do that, we’re even.”

“Psychic?” he asked incredulously. “Fuck, you’re just as crazy as he was! Next you’re going to tell me you’re a witch too!”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” she questioned. “I can prove it to you. If by the end of today you don’t believe witches are real, you can do whatever you want but if I can convince you, you have to do exactly what I ask. Deal?”

 

*****

 

He agreed, thankfully. They were silent on the ride back to Finn and Rose’s, she only spoke to give him directions. She probably should have left a note, they were waiting at the door, looking like they were preparing for battle. “I don’t care what you say, we’re getting you a cell! We were terrified! There’s a witch hunter in town and ... he’s right behind you,” Finn finished lamely. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve never wanted to be a crazy gun nut republican so much in my life.”

“If you ever become any kind of republican, I’m leaving you,” Rose said breezily. “Coffee? Tea? An explanation?”

“Tea please,” she replied as she led him towards the living room. “He’s not a witch hunter, Finn. He didn’t have a clue about his family. He doesn’t believe witches are real.”

“You’re all fucking batshit!” Poe mumbled as he stopped to stare at the group in wonder. 

“See?” she said pointedly as she dragged him into the living room, pushing him down onto the one of the couches. She didn’t trust him but she knew this wasn’t some elaborate act. It was time to prove it to him, her limited powers meant she could feel he was telling the truth but she couldn’t really so anything to prove it. 

She grabbed the book. “Pick a number between 1 and 3993 and see for yourself,” she sighed. This was the last thing she had expected when meeting a member of the Dameron family. 

“Why?”

“I’m proving magic is real so just pick a bloody number,” she answered. “The psychic, remember?”

He looked wary but finally spoke. “Um ... my birthday is November 28, so 2811.”

She leafed through the book, stopping when she got to the correct page. She read it quickly, snorting. Of course it was perfect. **Prophecy 2811: In the year of good vision, he will sit in the page’s sister’s parlour and read these words. The witch speaks the truth, damned one.** She wanted to dig into her bag upstairs for her notebook, wondering what her ancestors notes had been for this particular passage. She turned the book around and passed it to him. This would be funny. 

He must have read the passage several time before looking up. “This is gibberish. How does this prove a thing.”

“What’s perfect vision called?” she asked condescendingly. She’d had years of deciphering Anakin’s words, she had understood it right away. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She gave a disgusted sigh. “Perfect vision, or say, 20/20 vision?” she replied. “It’s 2020 right now so that’s the first bit.”

“Complete fluke, it’s a coincidence. That could mean anything,” he rationalized. “What about the page’s sister? Aren’t pages like some medieval shit?”

Rose had entered with a teacup, handing it to her before she leaned over his shoulder to read the words. “I guess now would be a good time to introduce myself “ she giggled. “Rose Tico, I believe you’ve met my sister Paige.”

His eyes widened. “Bullshit!”

Rose laughed again before walking out of the room. He barely had time to open his mouth before she came back with a picture frame, handing it to him. His mouth dropped open, eyes still wide as he stared. “We’ve been watching you for years, get over it,” she said before yanking what had to have been a picture of Paige out of his hand. 

“I assume you know what a parlour is?” she asked rhetorically, gesturing vaguely at the room. “I’m the witch obviously and you’ve got it from the man himself, I speak the truth.”

He looked at the page again. “So I’m the damned one?” he whined. “I thought witches were damned, I’m just a guy!”

“Don’t go spouting that nonsense!” Finn interjected. “Witches were persecuted for being different and most of them were innocent! Your kind killed them for nothing!”

“I didn’t do it!”

“Not the time sweetie. And we’re dumb,” Rose said bluntly. “How did we not figure this out sooner? Damned one? Dam-eron? It was there the whole time. Aren’t there a bunch of prophecies about him?”

 

*****

 

That shut him up. There were prophecies about him? What the hell had he gotten himself into? He should have just stayed in the Air Force. He looked at Rey, she was blushing profusely. “There’s a couple,” she hedged. 

“So wait, this book talks about me?” he asked hesitantly. “How old it this thing?”

“Anakin Skywalker wrote it about 400 years ago,” Finn stated. “But how can we be sure you can be trusted? I mean he could have weapons hidden on him and he’s just trying to trick us.”

“We can trust him,” Rey declared. “So unless you’re going to do a body cavity search, I think we can just make a plan about ... after.”

He went a little green at that. “No weapons, I didn’t even know I was going to meet you guys,” he insisted. “So say I believe you, what’s this book say about me?”

Rey looked hesitant, suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know. Maybe he could just promise to keep her secret and walk out the door, he sure as hell wasn't going to murder anyone and he might be better off just finishing up with the house and getting the hell away from these people. He’d been perfectly happy to live in a world where witches were nothing but cheesy Halloween costumes. 

“It’s nothing bad,” she finally said. 

“But I’m guessing it’s not good either,” he replied. 

“How about we make some breakfast, leave you two to talk,” Rose said when Rey remained silent. 

Finn looked like he wanted to argue, but he followed the tiny woman out of the room. “Alright, show me,” he said quietly. The last 24 hours had been unbelievable, he might as well roll with it. 

She nodded before she got up to leave the room. He opened his mouth to ask but she shook her head. He might as well trust her, she’d been brutally honest so far. She came back a few minutes later with a beat up notebook, bursting at the seams with other papers jammed into it. She flipped through it confidently, she must have been looking for something specific. She slid it over, it reminded him a bit of the mountain of journals he had waiting at his father’s house. It was handwritten, a few varying styles. The pages had several numbers on it, underlined with the words written in different sections. **Prophecy 3418: The time of rebirth is at hand. Two families intertwined at last, bringing about the end of the hunt. The strife will end, the Damned will see the rey of light and embrace the sun.**. He scanned the notes, trying to piece together what the various sentences were saying.

“Okay, so I’m guessing it’s about us meeting and calling a truce basically?” he questioned. “No clue about the rebirth bit but we hug it out and the fight between our families is done?”

“Hug it out?” she asked with a laugh. 

He scowled at her. “I’m new to this, okay? Embrace means hug. Your name is Rey, I saw you so now we hug. Prophecy fulfilled or whatever.”

“Check the other ones genius.”

 **Prophecy 2664: He will be named for another, the damned was once an ally. You shall know it from his own mouth.** He didn’t even bother looking at the notebook, he understood this one. He went to skip it but she stopped his hand. “I guess you have something to tell me?” she asked hesitantly. 

He sighed, finding out why his father thought he was soft had been one of the better revelations of last night. “So my dad asked my mom to pick an old family name, he was in one of his business trips when she went into labour. We have a family tree that’s pretty detailed for the last 400 years, three guesses why. She picked Poe after some relative from hundreds of years ago,” he explained. “We’ve used the same names a lot so he wondered why he couldn’t remember the name. It turned out the first Poe was friends with some people suspected of being a witches. He and his dad had refused to join in the killing because they knew some people named ... Luke and Leia, I think it was. The other Poe’s uncle suspected they helped hide them.”

She doubled over on the couch like she was in pain. He was worried for a moment until he understood she was laughing. “So some ancestor of yours knew Anakin’s kids. What happened to the guy?”

“Let’s just say that branch of the family never reproduced,” he replied. “Too bad, they seemed to be the good ones.”

“It’s usually the assholes who survive.”

He nodded his head before checking the next one. **Prophecy 129: The damned one shall usher in a new generation. The seed will flower, restarting the bloodline as it should have been at the beginning.** He blanched. “I think we’ve established I suck at translating these but why does it seem like we’re supposed to have a baby?” he said a tad hysterically. 

*****

“Welcome to my world, it sucks having most of your life planned out,” she replied as she took the notebook from him. “And that’s only one interpretation.” 

“So we’re supposed to ... like get married or something?” he asked nervously. “I’m not sure I’m ready to marry a witch i just met.”

“Not necessarily, we might just have to sleep together,” she snarked. “It’s not a Magic 8 Ball.”

“Seems like one to me.”

“It’s not a stupid toy, it’s a work of prophecy!” she hissed.

“Let’s find out,” he replied as he took the book. “Do we get married?” She watched as he repeated her actions from this morning, picking a passage at random. He read the words out loud “ **Prophecy 1004: All signs point to yes. Use your solitude wisely.** ”

He looked at her smugly. “You sure about that?”

“We aren’t alone, the book is wrong!” she countered.

Finn walked in warily. “I heard fighting. You sure he’s not going to kill you because Jannah just texted. Her train is heading out in half an hour so we were going to drop her off.”

She nodded absently, watching as the couple got their things and left. “So ...”

He looked a little sheepish, it was adorable. Damn bastard. “Are we supposed to like ... talk? Do I buy you dinner? Or breakfast, I guess?”

She rolled her eyes, he was going to need catch up. “My room’s upstairs, we’re supposed to use our solitude wisely, remember?”

“What!” he shouted. 

“Relax flyboy, I’ll be gentle,” she teased. “If we’re supposed to get married, we might as well get to know each other. I have some family stuff up there, I can explain the witch stuff more. Your virtue is safe.”

“Well if we’re being honest, is it weird that I’ve always carried around a wedding ring?”

“Yes but my whole life is weird so I’m the wrong person to ask,” she replied as she held out her hand to him. 

397 Days Later ...

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked quietly.

“No ... well yes,” she replied. “What about you?”

“I think it’s time,” he answered. “And it’s a little late to stop now, don’t you think?”

The house they had found was a bit of a fixer upper but it was quiet, set out in the middle of nowhere. It had turned out perfectly, they had checked the book just for kicks. He had started calling it the Magic 8 Ball, her family’s title took to long to say. Rey has picked a random passage, it was eerie how often the method worked for them. **Prophecy 595: Residing in meadows and glens shall mark the end. 790 of such shall bring about the finish.** They hadn’t understood it until the realtor brought them to see 790 Meadowglen Road. They put in a ridiculous high offer without even looking at it, having a millionaire girlfriend was awesome, and not long after they had a house of their own. 

Two weeks after they had moved in, Rey’s powers went from 0-60. It wasn’t like they had anyone they could ask, and every book they found on witchcraft was useless. “I’ve never danced naked under a full moon in my life!” she exclaimed. “What moron wrote this rubbish?”

Even the book was useless these days, the Magic 8 Ball wasn’t telling them anything. He was tempted to shake it like its namesake, maybe they’d finally get an answer. A visit from a very pregnant Rose gave them their answer. For the first time in 400 years, the Skywalker and Dameron families would have more than one child in a generation, it was twins. They could only guess but having three witches (well two and a wizard, he was still learning) was supercharging Rey’s powers. All they knew has they must have done something right. 

So here they were, in their perfectly landscaped yard, using the newly build fire pit. Not for food like they should be but to finish off some family business. His family’s journals were stacked neatly, the ones on the bottom already burning away. She took a deep breath before tossing Anakin’s book and her notebook into the flames. He’d expected the tears, hormones and all that but he knew she hated it too. They sat down and watched as the last four centuries of both their family’s history turned to ash. They were on their own now. 

He helped her up when the flames finally went out, thinking about the one thing she had rebelled on, refusing to do what the book had told her to do. “It’s done,” he said quietly, almost afraid to break the silence after their vigil. 

“It’s done,” Rey repeated. “We have to live like everyone else, not having a clue what going to happen.”

“So you don’t have a clue what’s going to happen, huh?” he teased as he placed a hand on her swollen belly. 

“I’m going to spend hours in excruciating pain because someone was a little over excited after Finn and Rose’s wedding,” she said mockingly. 

“Yes, you were excited, but I forgive you,” he grinned.

She shoved him playfully. She was okay, it was time. He had one last thing to do, before they could truly leave ‘The Not So Nice but Accurate Prophecies of Anakin Skywalker, Wizard Turned Warlock’ behind for good. He took a deep breath before dropping to one knee.

“We’re supposed to be together, I think maybe if another Poe and another Rey had their chance, maybe it never would have been like this but now we can end it. Just 400 years late. So Rey Smythe ... no, Rey Skywalker, will you marry me?”


End file.
